Ravenna Cruor knelt before the Altar of True Silence, her eyes shut in a meditation filled with rage. The Chosen Vessel, Velka, had slipped through her fingers. Her network in The Undercroft reported the girl had vanished, as if swallowed by ghosts.
Suddenly, the obsidian altar before her began to pulse with thick black light, unsummoned. The air chilled, and a voice whispered directly into her mind. Old, powerful, and filled with cold desperation. The voice of Valerius Nocturne.
"High Priestess," the voice hissed, crossing distances and realities. "You seek a Vessel. You have taken the wrong bait."
Ravenna flinched. "Who are you? How dare you—"
"I am the head of the House that has guarded His secret for centuries," the voice cut in. "I am Valerius Nocturne. My daughter is a flawed, unstable Vessel. But my son... my son is something else. He is pure, unbound power. He is the storm you seek."
Ravenna froze. The rebelling Avatar.
